Silver Dogtags
by AWakeingDream
Summary: Instead of Claire, there was another girl. Just as small, almost as fragile, and even more smart. When looking for an off-campus place to live, it's Eve she talks to and meets first, but complications arise when she meets the boys, and her dark and abusive past threatens to take over her life.
1. Chapter 1

"Well _that's_ original," I observe as I peer down into the empty washing machine that held my clothes not even an hour ago. On the top floor of the worst dorm of the worst school in the worst town in probably the worst state, I hold myself up by the washing machine's edges, my toes dangling an inch or two above the concrete floor.

But, since the washer's apparently no use to me anymore, I let myself drop down. Then I notice the graffiti on the front of the washing machine. Written plain as day, clearly meant for me even if it doesn't have my name on it.

DEAR DORK, WE FOUND TRASH IN THE MACHINES AND THREW IT DOWN THE CHUTE. IF YOU WANT IT, DIVE FOR IT.

"Is this what normal high school bitches do?" I wonder. "At least the island school was creative."

I look over my shoulder, at the trash chute. Do I _really_ want to go diving down there for my clothes? Then again, I'd waited until the last minute to do my laundry and the only other clothes I have are the ones that I'm wearing. So I guess I don't have much of a choice.

So I grab my drawstring bag, throwing it over one shoulder, and start the trek back down the stairs, headed towards the basement. I don't make it all the way down there though, of course. That would just be way too easy.

"Well, look who it is," a familiar haughty voice says. On a landing in between two half sets of stairs, in between the first floor and the dorms floor. I stop, drop my bag from my shoulder, and slowly turn around, looking up to see Monica Morrell, the clothes thief and note writer, standing at the top of the stairs. "The Dumpster Diver," she dubs me, a ridiculously arrogant smirk on her full, glossed lips. She's flanked by her worker bees, the girls who hang on to her popularity like their lives depend on it.

"Shouldn't you be in first period at the junior high now?" she asks mockingly. "Or at least _getting_ your first period!" I don't answer. So many come-backs pop into mind. At least half of them pretty good. But I keep my mouth shut, too cowardly to actually say anything.

"Maybe she's looking for the clothes she left lying around," one of the minions says. I've never bothered to remember their names. "Litterbug!"

"Clothes? You mean, those rags we threw away? The ones she left cluttering up the washer?"

"Yeah, those."

"I wouldn't wear those to sweat in."

"I wouldn't wear them to scrub out the boy's toilet!" the second minion blurts. I just raise an eyebrow at her.

Monica turns on that minion and snaps, "Yeah, you know all about the boys' toilet, don't you? Didn't you do Steve Gillespie in ninth grade in there?" Now I glance away, feeling my cheeks heat up. That's more information than I needed to know. Way more.

All three of the girls laugh, but the minion that just got snapped at does it a little nervously.

"Go get your stupid clothes already," the mocked minion turns her anger on me, since she's too scared to turn it on who really deserves it. "I'm sick of looking at you, with your pasty skin—"

"Yeah, junior high, ever heard of sunshine?" the other minion adds.

 _Not all of us feel the need to spend hundreds to have their bodies spray painted,_ I think. I look down, trying to hide the smirk that I know will get me in trouble if they see it.

They see it. And it does get me in trouble.

"What are you laughing at, freak?" Monica snaps furiously, lunging towards me. I don't know how she closes the distance so fast, but she does it before I can react. She throws me down the rest of the stairs, and I tumble down the concrete steps until my back and the back of my head slam against the wall at the bottom. And then I black out.


	2. Chapter 2

I look around, no longer in the dorm building. But I'm walking with purpose, so whatever I'm doing, I knew what it was ten seconds ago. I look around, trying to figure out where I am. I'm probably in one of the worst places to wake up from a black out though, because the campus common area has just about everything that's required for student life. Coffee shop, school supply store, small used book and textbook store…and a news stand. That seems about right.

I walk over to the news stand, letting my body have control since my mind has basically no idea what's going on. But I grab a newspaper, paid for it, and went to sit down at a bench. "Moving," I realize. "Duh." Because with Monica on the loose, and clearly getting worse, living in the dorm doesn't seem like a very good idea anymore.

So I flip through the paper to the housing section, scanning straight to the off-campus. There are about half a dozen places with rooms to rent. So, without a cell phone to call the places about the rooms, I memorize the first address, fold the paper back up, tuck it into my drawstring bag, and start walking.

The first house, nobody answers. The second one, the room's already been rented out. The third, the girl who opened the door quickly dismissed me, saying that she didn't want to rent out to someone who was obviously going to cause trouble – that one confused me, considering I'm about half the size of any other girl on campus, between being younger than them all and just being short and thin naturally. The third door, I ran from before the person behind it could get there, since all I heard from the other side was angry shouting and what's probably a _huge_ dog barking angrily. The fourth door, no one answered. The fifth was answered by a weird old lady who I couldn't even understand.

The sixth house, I didn't even make it to the door. I was intercepted by a tall Goth girl climbing out of a black Cadillac in the driveway.

"Hey, visitor!" he greets cheerfully. "What excellent timing I have! Are you here about the room?" I nod wordlessly, her cheerfulness making me uneasy. For the first time, the girl actually looks at me, and she stops walking and digging in her purse. "Whoa. What happened to you?"

I don't answer her. I don't really know what to say. I fell down some stairs, sure, but that shouldn't really show any marks, right? Maybe a couple arm bruises if I was wearing short sleeves or something. But I always wear long sleeves, so there's not even that.

"Not going to talk about it? Alright, fine, but at least tell me if I need to drive you to the hospital or call an ambulance or something? I'm not sure how I'm going to explain it if you drop dead on the lawn."

I shake my head, finally getting my voice enough to say, "No, I'm fine." I hope. I'm still standing, at least. That's got to be a good sign.

"Okay, good. Anyway, come on in. Your timing's actually perfect, I just came home for lunch break. I'm actually working right now," Goth girl explains as she leads the way up the walk and to the front door, where she unlocks the door with a key and swings it open.

"Yo!" the girl yells as she steps inside, dropping her purse on the table near the door and her keys in the dish on the table. "You can drop your bag here, if you want," she says to me before calling out, "Roomies! Shane! I know you're here, I smell the chili! Take the headphones out of your ears!"

She continues on into the house, but I linger in the open doorway, not entirely sure whether to stay or go. She hadn't looked back or told me to follow or given any other signal telling me to follow her, but she did invite me inside to begin with. So here I stand, just inside, doubting whether or not this is a good idea.

If Monica decides that pushing me down the stairs was fun once – and I have absolutely no doubt that she did – then she'll do it again, and then probably do worse. Staying in the dorms is dangerous, but at least there, I know exactly what the danger is. At least there, I know what to expect.

Moving would be new though. New territory, new people, new rules that I'll have to learn and new enemies I'll have to figure out. And I've never been very good at new.

"Hey!" Goth girl hops back through the archway leading to the living room and looks at me. "I thought you were right behind me, what are you doing? Come on in, come get something to eat. Shane's chili actually isn't half bad."

"Shut up, my chili's the best," a boy's voice says from somewhere behind her, somewhere I can't see.

I started to follow her, but now I stop. She's already turned back around, disappeared, but I stay planted where I am. Boy. There's a boy in this house. Are there two? The ad in the paper said three roomies seeking a fourth. The second roomie is a boy, so is the third two? I can't live in a house with two boys.

"Eve, seriously, check yourself into the psych ward. There's still no one there," I hear the boy, Shane, say from the living room. I'm moving without even realizing it, backing out the doorway, quickly.

As I turn and head out the door, I hear the girl, Eve, say, "Shane, she's seriously…oh my God." She's realized that I'm gone. I hear the clumping of her thick soled platform shoes behind me, and I pick up my pace, starting to jog away.

"Hey!" she calls after me. "Hey, wait wait wait," she says in a rush, catching up to me and passing me so that she can turn around to face me, cutting me off. My entire body tenses, but I stop. "Okay, wait. What's going on? Seriously, are you okay?"

I nod, "I just changed my mind about the room."

"Why?" she asks, completely confused. This time, I don't answer. I can't lie and I'm not good enough with words to be able to get around that.

"Okay," Eve says once she realizes I'm not going to tell her. "Okay, I won't pry. But you need a place to stay, right? Or at least crash for one night? You look horrible. So come in. Eat Shane's chili if you don't mind a lot of garlic. And then I'll show you the room. If you still want to go, you can go after you at least rest for a little bit. And who knows? Maybe you'll change your mind again and decide to stay."

I don't say anything right away. I look down, debating internally. The boy in the house makes this such a bad idea on so many levels. My hand automatically comes up to pinch the fabric of my shirt, right where the dogtags I started wearing 2 months ago are hidden under it. She would tell me to do what Eve's suggesting. It's one try, a couple hours at most. I will have ways out. I'm not as defenseless as I used to be. It's a lot safer now that it would have been before.

"Okay," I agree, reluctantly.

"Great!" Eve cheers. Then she walks past me and back towards the house, and I turn to follow her. The boy that must be Shane is standing in the doorway. There's nothing hostile or angry in his gaze, he's not threatening or anything. He's just standing there, a bowl of what's probably chili in his hand, watching us. He doesn't look like he intends anything bad. But still, just the sight of him is almost enough to make me turn and run anyway.

But then Eve pushes his shoulder as she tries to get into the door, since he's blocking her path. And he lets her turn him and push him inside. So I follow.


	3. Chapter 3

I linger behind the other two, even after Shane sits down and Eve hands me a bowl and then sits down. While they're relaxing in the living room, mocking each other, I lean with my back against the doorframe between them and the hallway. Between them and the door.

For the most part, they ignore me. Not in a bad way, I can tell. They're not ignoring me because I'm not worth they're time. They're just waiting, giving me time. When Eve finishes hers, I let her take my bowl and set it with hers on the table, and then I follow her up the stairs, making sure keep track of where Shane is as I go – thankfully, he doesn't seem to get off the couch, which is good because I don't think I'm good enough at listening to movement to be able to track anyone yet.

On the second floor, there are six doors. Before Eve leads me down it, though, she stops at the top and turns to face me, "Okay, I've been thinking. It's boys, isn't it? I mean, obviously you're shy in general too, but it's boys too, right?"

I glance down, not sure how to answer without having to either lie or explain the entire truth. After a few seconds, I finally look at her again and nod, "Yeah. I don't trust men." I wait for her to ask why.

But instead, she just nods, "Okay, I won't press it. But, from your bruises, I'm guessing that life in the dorms isn't exactly safe either, so—"

"What bruises?" I ask before she can continue. She stops short, and just blinks at me.

"What…? Come here," she grabs my wrist and pulls me through the only open door on the hallway – the bathroom. In the mirror I see the bruises. My left eye's bruised, my nose is broken, and my left cheek is completely bruised.

"Oh."

"Oh? That's it? How do you not know you have bruises, they look like they _just_ happened."

"They did," I agree. And now I'm starting to think something else happened after I fell down the stairs, during my blackout.

"It doesn't hurt?" she asks in disbelief.

I shake my head, "I don't feel pain."

"None at all?" she questions. When I shake my head, she pinches me on the shoulder. Probably hard. Then looks at me with both her eyebrows raised. I just shake my head and shrug. "Okay," Eve sits down on the toilet's closed lid. "So you didn't know you had bruises, but you knew how they happened?"

I nod, "They're new enough, wasn't that hard to figure out."

"Boys?" she questions. I shake my head. Not this time. "Then who?"

"Monica Morrell." I'd probably include her minions, but I don't even know their names.

"Ugh, that _bitch,_ " Eve scowls. "I hate her. Okay, well, as far as I'm concerned, you're good to stay here. And I doubt Shane'll have a problem with it. Michael might be a little more difficult, but I'll talk him into it. He's just a big softie, really."

Michael. Two boys then.

"You really do look horrible though. I mean, other than the bruises," Eve says as she stands up. "Come on, I'll show you the room so you can at least crash for a few hours."


	4. Chapter 4

I crashed hard.

There was only one dream. It was strange and eerie, but a welcome reprieve from the nightmares I usually have. In the dream, there's only darkness, and a woman sitting in the middle of it, crying quietly.

When I wake up, the room is dark. I sit up and look around, savoring the dimness. Of all the things I've come to fear, it almost seems ironic to me that I have absolutely no fear of the dark anymore.

After a few minutes, I realize the darkness isn't silent. Somewhere in the house, someone's either playing a CD or strumming on a guitar. Hoping that it's the latter, I slide out of the most comfortable bed I've slept in since my trip to the island a few months ago ad slip out of the room. Purely to make myself feel a little bit better about creeping around in a strange place alone, I pull my hood up over my hair as I silently walk down the hall, then partway down the steps.

I stop towards the bottom when I find the source of the guitar. It's not a CD, it's a person. The second boy of the house, I figure. He's sitting on the couch, strumming on the guitar in his lap, his head bent over so that blonde curls almost hide his face. I sit down on the stairs, watching him. Resting my elbow on my knee and my chin in my hand as I just let myself take all this in.

She's right, I think for the thousandth time since leaving the island. My free hand automatically pull the dog tags out from under my shirt and close around them. The warm, hard metal is irrationally comforting.

Every person is different, every location is different, every building is different. It's foolish to let one person rule my opinion on all people. How many guns did she have pointed to her head? How many times did someone try to drown her or burn her alive? How many people have betrayed her? And she walks through every day like none of it ever happened, because the people that did all those bad things to her aren't around anymore. She's not afraid of people.

I sigh, wishing I could be more like her.

The boy – I can't remember what Eve said his name is – stops playing, his head snapping up. I freeze, my head lifted slightly from my hand. The two of us just sit there staring at each other for a minute, him assessing me and me trying to assess whether or not he's going to attack.

"Well," the boy finally looks away as he puts his guitar in the case that's sitting open on the coffee table, "come on in and have a seat. We need to talk."

Dropping my dog tags back under my shirt, I stand up and continue down the rest of the stairs. This time, I sit in one of the armchairs in the living room. I still keep as much distance as possible though, sitting in the seat as far away from the boy as I can get.

"I'm Michael, by the way. Eve didn't tell me your name."

Suddenly I'm not entirely sure I even told Eve my name to begin with. "Elizabeth."

He nods, "Right. Well, I'm sorry, but you can't stay here. All three of us are eighteen, and I'm betting you're not even seventeen." He pauses, looking me up and down. He doesn't say anything about the bruises, but I know he's cataloged them. "Are you even sixteen?" He asks. I don't answer, which is enough answer for him. "Yeah, there's no way. Shane and I could get in serious trouble, and we can't afford that."

"I'm of age though," I protest.

"You're not eighteen," he starts to argue, shaking his head.

"No, but I'm of age," I pull my drawstring bag off my back and pull my wallet out of it, then pull my ID out of my wallet and hold it up to show Michael, showing him the symbol plain as day on it. "This symbol means that for all intents and purposes, I am eighteen, even in Morganville. I'm an out of towner, but I know about the vampires, and they know about me. You wouldn't get in trouble having me here."

"I've never seen that symbol before," Michael shakes his head. I swear internally. She told me that there'd be less people in this town that would actually know it, but I thought it was worth a try anyway.

"Fine. How much would it be to live here? I have three hundred on me," I double check my wallet to make sure that's even still true – thankfully it is. "I can get more."

"How?" he questions.

"I have ways," I say vaguely. At his skeptical look, I do quickly add, "Legal ways. I'm not a troublemaker. Even though I do apparently look like one right now."

Michael doesn't say anything right away this time. Instead, he slides off the couch to kneel down in front of me. I'm on my feet instantly, out of the chair and across the room, away from him. He slowly stands up, raising his hands almost in a gesture of surrender. The look in his eyes isn't as stern as before. "I'm not going to hurt you," he says. But words are cheap. He picks my wallet, ID and bag off the floor, where I dropped them, puts the ID back in my wallet and the wallet back in my bag and then hangs my bag by one of its strings on the chair before going back to sit on the couch. If I wanted to, I could just step forward once, grab the bag, and get out now. Does he realize how easy he made it for me?

I think he does. I think he intentionally gave me that easy out.

"You live in the campus dorms, right?" he asks, almost as if nothing just happened. Then again, to him, nothing probably did happen. I just nod, not saying anything. "Then you're safe from the vampires. Safer than you'd be here."

I take the out. I take on big step forward, grab my bag, and head to the door.

"Wait!" Michael manages to cut me off, blocking my way to the door. He sighs, "I can't let you leave at night. It's too dangerous."

"Not for me," I shove past him and am out the door before he can stop me, walking quickly down the walkway, to the street, where I turn and start walking.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Rules of Hiding**

The moment the door clicks shut behind me, I spin around to face it, yanking my hand away as if the doorknob burned and jumping backwards as if it's about to jump out at me. This, of course, results in me falling backwards down the steps leading up to the door, but I'm on my feet instantly, backing away from the house, staring at it with wide eyes.

"What the hellwas that?" I wonder, my voice shaking slightly. There's something weird with that house. It doesn't feel like a house. Not a normal one, at least.

I wipe my hands on my jeans, as if somehow whatever makes the house so strange has rubbed off on me and I can rub it off, as I continue to back away from the house. "Strange house in a strange town in the strange part of this world," I say quietly. Then it hits me where, exactly, I'm currently standing. Or rather, when.

Darkness surrounds me, thick like a deadly fog. I turn around slowly, taking in everything I can, scanning for vampires. "This would be a really good time to have those heightened sense that…well, pretty much everything else has." Humans suck.

I curl my hands into fists, resisting the urge to palm a weapon. My dogtags hang heavily around my neck, reminding me of where I was before I came here. Reminding me of where I got them.

 _"The rules are simple. Never run unless you are chased."_

So I walk, across the lawn to the street, across the street to the other side, then I continue on, walking towards campus. If I could just get back to campus, I'll be safe. From the vampires, at least. I shove my hands in my pockets, wishing I had weapons in them.

 _"Never look, even when you can sense."_

So I keep my gaze fixed straight ahead, looking elsewhere only when I have to cross the street. Up and down the street only, not even sneaking extra glances to check for vampires.

 _"Don't alter your course to avoid light or dark."_

So when I have to turn down a street with even few streetlights than the usual few, I continue on down it instead of waiting for a better lit street.

It takes half an hour, but I make it to campus without getting killed or abducted by a vampire. My next problem to deal with is Monica though. It's late in the night, but that hardly matters at a party school. I can hear the party going on, and it's at the girls' dorm. I suppose that doesn't matter, though, because I can't go back to that dorm, or my room, anyway.

 _"Make sure there are obstacles."_

I head into the closest classroom building and down to its basement.

 _"Don't sleep."_

I don't.

I've never been a make-up girl – too much effort for a seemingly ridiculous purpose. But the next morning, I do put on make-up to hide the dark circles that betray my lack of sleep. There's nothing I can do about the bloodshot eyes though, but they're not too bad yet, so nobody should notice.

 _"Never break from the typical routine, in any way."_

I sit at the front of the class, like I always do, putting me in full view of Monica Morrell and her minions, in the classes where I have one or more of them. But I focus on my school work, not even looking up at them.

 _"Let your studies drop during any of this and I'll find you and skin you alive."_

I press my lips together, trying not to laugh when I remember that one.

But I make it through the majority of the day with no incidents. No fights, no trouble from Monica, no black-outs. I manage to keep it that way for a surprising amount of days – which, sadly, only means 3.

Then something happens.

 _"Then when you do get caught, shut down your brain."_


End file.
